


Cracked

by Elfbert



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfbert/pseuds/Elfbert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Tucker doesn't read his memos. Lieutenant Reed suffers for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracked

Commander Charles Tucker was walking quietly down the corridor to engineering, studying the padd in his hand. The sound of running feet made him look up. A few yards away two of the armoury staff shot past the end of the corridor, both carrying phase pistols, taking pot shots behind them and looking very scared. Tucker reached the end of the corridor and yelled, "Hey, just what the hell..."  
  
"It's Lieutenant Reed, sir, he's after us, get out of the way..." One panted as they both disappeared around the next corner. Tucker turned at the sound of more running and saw the Chief Armoury Officer hurtling at full tilt toward him, brandishing a phase pistol.  
  
Tucker did the first thing that came into his head. He took a step forward and swung his fist to stop the crazed man.  
  
The effect was quite surprising, even to Tucker. Reed attempted to dodge the blow at the last minute, but there was no way he could stop-his momentum carried him into the fist. Reed's arm shot up in a last ditch attempt at fending off the blow and the phase pistol flew through the air and skittered across the floor. There was a crunch and Tucker hissed as pain shot up his arm. Reed's head snapped back and he crumpled onto the floor.  
  
Tucker cursed, shaking his hand. "Hey, it's okay, I got him," he shouted, before he dropped to his knees beside the now-unconscious armoury officer. He had always expected the man to snap one day. No-one could be that uptight all the time without something breaking. Except recently Tucker had thought that the Brit was relaxing a bit-he wondered what had caused the man to go rampaging through the ship trying to shoot his own staff.  
  
He reached out and felt for a pulse. Reed's nose was gushing blood, but apart from that he seemed okay. Tucker sighed, it was a shame, he'd almost have described the man as his friend, and he was pretty sure that he was about the closest acquaintance Reed had.  
  
He looked up to see the two crewmen cautiously walking toward him, weapons hung by their sides.  
  
"Don't worry, he's out cold. What the hell happened anyway?"  
  
"Er, Sir? You knocked the Lieutenant out?" One of the men asked, sounding shocked.  
  
"Sure. Can one of you comm. Phlox, I think we both need some attention," he sucked one of his knuckles, which had started to bleed.  
  
As one of the men reached for the comm panel the other one dropped beside his two commanding officers. "Commander Tucker, sir, why did you...I mean...Sir, we were running a training exercise. Lieutenant Reed had set up the pistols and these suits, we were simulating a boarding situation," the man gestured to small wires and patches that were stuck to his uniform. "These sensors detect each shot fired. The Lieutenant was one of the hostile forces."  
  
"You...He...Damn," Tucker looked from the prone form to the appalled crewman and sunk his head into his hands.  
  
Half an hour later Tucker was pacing sickbay. "Honest, cap'n, I just thought, I mean, I didn't know he was planning no damn simulation. I mean, he was in the engineering corridors. I thought, when they ran by, maybe he'd, well, lost it, a little bit," he looked up at his captain, his friend, and saw an amused look in the green eyes.  
  
"Don't worry, Trip," Archer used the mans nickname to make sure he knew he wasn't in trouble, "It was an honest mistake, and when you tell Malcolm that I'm sure he'll understand. I mean, it's not often someone manages to knock out the most dangerous man on the ship."  
  
Tucker groaned at the smile that appeared on Archers face. "He'll kill me-he actually will kill me. I won't even know it, I'll just wake up one day, dead in my bunk."  
  
"If I were you, I'd wait until Phlox has finished, then go and talk to him while he's still a little groggy. You might have a chance then."  
  
At that moment Phlox twitched aside the curtain that surrounded Reed's bed. "Ah, Commander Tucker, Captain, I have set the lieutenants broken nose, and Mr Tucker, Mr Reed is asking for you, if you'd like to go in."  
  
"Oh God. Wish me luck," Tucker appealed to Archer.  
  
Archer just laughed.  
  
Reed looked up as the curtain opened, dislodging the cool-pack that had been over one eye. "Commander," he started.  
  
"No...Malcolm, I'm real sorry, I got the wrong end of the stick. I thought, well, I thought that you were actually...I didn't know it was a simulation. If there's anything I can do, you know, just..." He trailed off, looking at the darkening bruises around Reed's eyes, "Does it hurt a lot?"  
  
"I've had worse, Commander, and I was going to congratulate you on a rather good defence strategy-after all, you saved the ship from a hostile takeover. But of course, that was when I was under the impression that you'd actually read my memo about the event."  
  
"Memo...Oh." Tucker vaguely recalled a memo from the armoury, but he'd ignored it, expecting it to be one of Reed's official, by-the-book, regulations-related notes. "No, I, er, it was on my 'to-do' list," Tucker smiled, nervously, wondering how his junior could make him feel like he was somehow the subordinate who was getting a dressing down for something particularly stupid, whilst the other man was lying on his back with two black eyes and his uniform open to his waist. Speaking of which...Tucker realised his eyes had been resting on the finely toned torso for just a little too long. "So, no hard feelings, huh?" He grimaced at his choice of words, given what was starting to happen inside his trousers.  
  
"No, sir, of course not."  
  
Phlox breezed back in, looking at both men, "Mr Tucker, I wonder if you would be good enough to accompany the lieutenant back to his quarters, ideally he shouldn't be left alone, but I rather worry that keeping him here is more damaging to both our healths, hmmm?" Phlox looked pointedly at Reed.  
  
Tucker nodded, knowing all about the legendary battles between the armoury officer and the doctor. "It's the least I can do, doc," Tucker didn't know whether to be thankful or fearful of the chance to spend time alone with the British man. He watched as Phlox helped the other man dress and get off the bed, the guilt growing at every wince the dark haired man gave.  
  
They walked to Reed's quarters in silence, the armoury officer finally speaking as he keyed in his lock code. "You don't have to stay if you don't want, sir. I'll be fine."  
  
"Well, Lieutenant, I don't got nothing better to do, so if you don't mind..."  
  
"Of course. I believe I have some scotch around here somewhere-I know I could do with one, perhaps you'd join me?" Tucker smiled, "I wouldn't say no, but let me provide the alcohol, it's the least I can do and there's been a bottle of bourbon on my desk just waitin' for the right moment."  
  
Reed gave a small half-smile, "If you insist, sir."  
  
By the time Tucker was back Reed had placed two heavy glass tumblers on the desk. Tucker broke the seal on the drink and poured two good slugs.  
  
"Do you want it straight up, or on the rocks, sir?" Reed called, waving a small tray of ice-cubes.  
  
"Oh, yeah, with ice, I didn't know you had any," he paused, "How come you do have ice? Even the cap'n's only got a fridge in his room."  
  
"Just a small adaptation I made to the cabins facilities, sir," Reed dropped the cubes in the drinks and listened to the cracking ice with a smile.  
  
"I think after today, you can definitely drop the 'sir'. I'm Trip, not 'sir' or 'commander' or 'Mr Tucker', just Trip."  
  
Reed held up his glass, "Trip," he clinked the tumbler against Tucker's.  
  
Tucker smiled and sipped the cool liquid. Wondering why he'd never noticed just how sexy the other man's neck was as he swallowed the cool drink.  
  
"Please, take a seat," Reed gestured to the desk chair, "And excuse me whilst I change into something a little less soiled," he gestured to the dark bloodstain on the front of his uniform.  
  
A few minutes later he came out of his bathroom wearing a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. He sat on the bed with his drink, one hand holding the tumbler, the other kneading the abused muscles in his shoulders.  
  
"You alright? Something hurting?" Tucker asked, concerned.  
  
"Phlox diagnosed whiplash," Reed grimaced, "You should be careful where you leave your fist, you never know when someone won't be looking where they're going."  
  
"Let me help," Tucker moved onto the bed and began carefully rubbing the muscles through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, his mind unavoidably going back to the thought of Reed bare-chested in sickbay.  
  
Then Tucker had a thought. He swallowed the last of his drink, then reached for the ice-cubes. He emptied all of them into the glass, then held it to Reed's neck.  
  
The armoury officer jumped at the first cold contact before relaxing into the sensation. "That's good," he groaned.  
  
Tucker smiled, one hand returning to it's task of massaging the taut muscles, the other continuing to trail the cold glass across Reed's body. Reed dropped his head forward, exposing more of his neck. Tucker allowed his fingers to bury themselves into the short soft hair, then, somehow, his lips managed to take the place his fingers had occupied on the other man's neck.  
  
Reed felt the trail of icy condensation being followed by a sensation of wet heat and relaxed further. Until his mind worked out what exactly was making it. "Trip?"  
  
"Mmmm," Tucker managed, starting to concentrate on a shoulder.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Mmmnothinmmm, jus'..." He stopped and looked up. And rapidly realised what he was doing. "Malcolm...I, jeez, I'm sorry," he jumped up and ran a hand over his face.  
  
"Trip?" Reed stood up and faced the other man, "Come here."  
  
Tucker turned to look at the other man and found himself pushed up against the wall. He turned, preparing himself for the blow he knew must be coming. When gentle hands pulled him into a searing kiss he nearly fainted.  
  
Tucker stood, mouth hanging open, before grabbing the smaller man and hugging him tightly. "Mal?"  
  
"Trip."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Earlier, your face, I..."

"I know. I'm fine. Although you could carry on with what you were doing."

  
Trip pushed Reed's t-shirt over his head, then reached for the glass of ice. Reed closed his eyes, waiting for the cool sensation and gasped when Trip slid a single ice-cube around his neck and down his chest.  
  
They staggered to the bed and Tucker pushed Reed down, the ice-cube following his every move.  
  
Tucker gripped the ice between his lips and used both hands to open Reed's jeans, then pull down his boxers. He took the ice-cube into his mouth and Reed gasped at the amazing sensations of heat and cold on his cock.  
  
"God, don't stop," he pleaded, reaching down and threading his fingers through Trip's hair.  
  
Tucker reached for another ice-cube and slid it over Reed's inner thigh.  
  
Reed gasped as he came-the overload of sensation suddenly too much. He pulled Tucker up into a tight hug, panting into the engineer's neck. Tucker planted a wet kiss on Reed's lips, slipping the last sliver of ice into Reed's mouth.  
  
The taste of his own essence, mixed with Tuckers unique flavour made Reed smile. He removed the other ice-cube from Tucker's grasp and slid it over the other man's nipple, eliciting a laughing groan.  
  
"That was beautiful," Reed murmured.  
  
"Feel better?" Tucker smiled.  
  
"Mmm. Still have to face the crew tomorrow looking like a bloody panda though," Reed gently prodded the bridge of his nose.  
  
Tucker looked up and couldn't stifle a giggle at the two black eyes looking at him. "You're sure as cuddly as a cute little panda bear," he teased.  
  
The shriek as the entire contents of the icy glass was emptied in Tucker's lap was heard two decks away.


End file.
